Of Gods and Glass Towers
by Ankhutenshi
Summary: YGO-Gargoyles crossover. Battle City will not be the only place where the God Cards clash, and NYC will never be the same... Ch2 posted 19-01-05
1. Prologue: Life in Miniature

**Of Gods and Glass Towers**

**Disclaimer:** Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Gargoyles belongs to Disney/Buena Vista. I'd happily own both, but neither seems willing to give up the copyright.

**Authoress' Notes:** My first crossover fic, I got the idea for this at 4am while lying in bed and trying to fall asleep. Gargoyles was the first fandom I ever wrote fanfiction for, and YGO is the one I'm most familiar with.

**Special Thanks:** Vathara, for letting me use Seto's locket with the Eye of Horus on it. And for putting up with my questions, all of them. Christine Morgan, for clarifying where the PIT group came from. Matt Morwell for letting me ramble on and on about plot holes and timelines, and dutifully taking notes while I drove the car. I'm am truly spoiled.

_No trees were harmed during the production of this fanfiction, however, a large number of electrons were seriously inconvenienced._

* * *

**Prologue: Life in Miniature**

_6:13AM (Sunrise)  
Kame Game Shop  
Domino City, Japan_

//Aibou...//

Yugi mumbled in his sleep, pulling the blanket tighter around him, and buried his face against the pillow. _Not now_, he thought dimly, _the sun's not even all the way up yet... _With a mental groan, he tried to block out the voice whispering inside of him with a growing insistency.

//Aibou...//

The other voice was unrelenting, tickling at the fringes of his consciousness, and yet possessed a certain petulant whine that came only with familiarity.

//Aibouuuuuuu...//

Even a hikari can only take so much.

/Yami. I love you as the other half of my soul, but it's 6 AM on a Saturday, and if you don't stop trying to wake me up, I'm going to take apart the Puzzle, put it back in the box, take the box back to Egypt, and bury it in the sand./

For a moment, there was blissful silence, but then, //But _aibou..._//

/Near _camels_. I will bury the Puzzle near **_camels_**./

Horrified silence reigned.

Satisfied, Yugi went back to sleep.

* * *

_5:02AM  
Manhattan, New York_

Ryou muffled a yawn conscientiously into the back of his hand, and tucked the novel he'd been holding in his lap back inside his carry-on bag. He had been reading, but after 13 hours on the red-eye flight from Tokyo to New York, the words started to blur together and he gave up. Now, he looked blearily out the round window as the plane taxied towards the hanger. In the pre-dawn light, the buildings of JFK International Airport seemed cold, grey, and unwelcoming.

He passed groups of people waiting to greet their loved ones as they came through the terminal, but didn't pause; there was no one waiting with his name on a sign, no one waiting to spot him amid the press of people all trying to fit through the same corridor. Once he'd cleared most of the crowd, he exited the building and chose a taxi from the parade of them waiting curbside.

The cabbie opened the trunk and Ryou hefted his suitcase inside, then climbed in the back. "The Regency Hotel," he said, repressing another urge to yawn.

"Park Avenue," the driver acknowledged, starting the meter. Ryou settled back on the patched seat and tried to keep himself from falling asleep by watching the stirring bustle of the streets. _New York may be the city that never sleeps_, he mused, _but at least it's quieter at this time of morning._

The traffic was mercifully light, and so they arrived at the hotel relatively quickly. Glad he had exchanged his yen before leaving Japan, he handed the cabbie his fare and a tip. A bellhop greeted him as he climbed out of the vehicle. "Good morning, sir. Shall I get your luggage ?"

"Yes, please," Ryou answered, and the bellhop fell into step behind him as he entered the hotel lobby. The front desk was staffed by an older man, who looked up at Ryou's approach. The engraved gold tag pinned to his shirt identified him as the manager.

"Welcome to the Regency Hotel, sir. How may I assist you ?"

"Reservation under Bakura, please ?"

The manager checked the computer, and then slid a form across the counter. "Fill this out and sign here and here, please. Have you photo identification ?"

Ryou fished his license from his wallet, handed it over, and signed his name neatly. Watching him, the manager asked kindly, "How was your flight ?"

"Long," Ryou answered simply.

The manager nodded, as though hearing that answer often, and checked the signature with the one that had reserved the room. Ryou was glad that his father had registered the room jointly, knowing that the teen would be the first one there. The manager seemed satisfied with the verification, and handed Ryou a keycard. "You're in Suite 266. Elevators are past the lounge and to your right. Raymond will bring your bags up to your room."

"Thank you."

Suite 266, as was the style of all the rooms in this particular hotel, was finished in mahogany wood, cream and marble accents, and traditional style wooden furniture. He turned and saw the aforementioned Raymond waiting politely for a tip. Too tired to calculate what an appropriate percentage would be, Ryou handed him a twenty and watched in weary amusement as the man beat a hasty retreat, probably before Ryou could ask for change.

_I should call the museum and see what time the curator asked for the pieces to be brought over_, Ryou thought blearily, looking around for the suite's phone.

//You should sleep.//

Ryou started a little, having not heard anything from his yami since he had gotten on the plane in Tokyo. He didn't think the spirit had fallen asleep -- indeed, he wasn't sure his yami _ever_ slept -- but he occasionally would stay quiet for lengths of time.

/But, the museum --/

//_Sleep._// This time it was an order, the tone brooking no argument.

With a sigh, Ryou acquiesced, laying down on the bed. /You're right. A few hours sleep would be nice./

There was no response, only a fleeting feeling of satisfaction of obedience, and Ryou fell asleep.

* * *

_8:58AM  
Kame Game Shop  
Domino City, Japan_

Two and a half hours later, he climbed out of bed and padded on sock feet down the hallway to the bathroom. Turning on the water, he splashed his face and reached for his toothbrush. A knock on the door made him jump, and he turned to find his grandfather standing in the doorway, beaming from ear to ear. "Good morning, my boy !" He said heartily.

"Morning, Grandpa," Yugi answered warily. He knew his grandfather was an early riser, but enthusiasm of this caliber usually meant he'd decided it was time to clean the Game Shop top to bottom, or alphabeticize the inventory, or something equally tedious and mostly unnecissary (in Yugi's opinion.)

Instead, Solomon Motou thrust an envelope into his grandson's hands, the thousand-watt smile unwavering, and exclaimed, "We've been accepted !"  
  
"We have ?" Yugi asked, clueless.  
  
"Yes !" With no other explanation forthcoming from the elder Motou, Yugi opened the envelope and read the typed letter aloud.

_Dear Mr. Motou,_

_We at the commission board with to thank you for your application. As you know, the IBCGA hosts an annual convention in New York for game distributors. Although these are primarily for corporate store chains, we are happy to extend our invitation to you, under the Kame Game Shop. Enclosed, please find two permits, as well as a travel packet with hotel tickets. We look forward to seeing you !_

_Sincerely,  
J. Bremmer, Chairman, IBCGA Commission_

Yugi suddenly understood why his grandfather was so happy. The IBCGA -- International Board and Card Game Association -- was something that his grandpa had tried to resgister the Shop for many times, and had always previously been rejected. As a personal business without corporate sponsership, repeated rejection notices had outlined that the Shop simply did not meet the qualifications.

Apparently, this had since changed.

"Congratulations, Grandpa !" Yugi beamed, and Solomon picked up the teen, toothbrush and all, in a hug.

"Have your bag packed by tonight, Yugi," the elder Motou said, "Our plane leaves Narita International tomorrow afternoon."

* * *

_9:47AM  
JFK International Airport  
New York_

_"Mr. Kaiba, we'll be landing in approximately four minutes,"_ the captain spoke respectfully over the intercom.

"Good," Seto muttered, looking out the window of his private jet. Though the view was partially obscured by clouds and smog – some days, it was difficult to tell the two apart – he could pick out several landmarks he knew by reputation, and a few that surfaced as blurry memories. Neither of the two previous times he'd been to New York held particularly pleasant memories. The most recent being Pegasus' guest at the Inter-continental Championship, where he'd witnessed Pegasus beat Bandit Keith. Before that, when Gozaburo had taken him on a business trip, a few mere months before...

He pushed that stream of thought to the back of his mind, and instead leaned over and put his hand on his brother's arm, where the younger Kaiba had fallen asleep in the adjoining seat.

"'Nii-sama ?" Mokuba said sleepily, "... there yet ?"

"We're about to land," Seto replied.

Mokuba's expression changed to one of excitement. "Thank you for letting me come with you, Seto. I know it's your business trip, and I promise not to distract you," he said eagerly.

_'You're old enough to come.'_ The reply almost tumbled out before he realized he'd heard that phrase before.

_"You're old enough to start learning more about KaibaCorp's international business, boy."  
"Yes, Mr. Gozaburo, sir."_

Instead, Seto gave his brother one of his rare smiles; enigmatic and brief, but genuine. "I wanted you to come," he said.

The plane settled onto the runway with a gentle thump.

* * *

Additional Information: The title comes from Gary Kasparov's quote, "Chess is life in miniature," and replaced the original prologue chapter, "Opening Moves". Please read and review.

08-09-04


	2. Chapter 1: By Day

**Of Gods and Glass Towers**

Chapter 1: By Day

* * *

_6:37 AM  
23rd Precinct Station, NYPD  
Manhattan, New York_

Maria Chavez had just swallowed a mouthful of already cold coffee when her phone rang. Putting down the mug, she picked up the receiver and crisply answered, "Captain Chavez, 23rd Precinct."

There was a hiss of static on the line, before a man's voice came on the line. _"Captain Chavez, hello. My name is Shen Bakura, I left a message with one of your officers last week ?"_

Maria searched her memory and vaguely recalled seeing an orange sticky note taped to her computer screen one afternoon when she came back from lunch. Something about the museum ?

"Could you refresh my memory ?" She questioned. As usual, she made no social pretenses of remembering things she did not. It wasn't efficient.

_"Of course. I'm overseeing one of the new exhibits being put into your Museum of Natural History, and I had some concerns about security there ?"_

"And you don't think that the museum's staff security is sufficient ?" It was beginning to come back to her. The memo had questions about previous break-in's (which, despite the NYPD's best attempts, had emblazoned themselves across the newspapers for several days following each incident) and what measures had been put in place to prevent them. "Mr. Bakura, break-in's are extremely rare. I think that –"

_"You must pardon me, Captain, but as some would say, 'fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me'. Do you recall the vandalized South American exhibit ? One of the pieces -- a large, golden disk -- was stolen, and as far as I am aware, has not been recovered."_

Maria felt annoyance begin to mount at the man's patronizing tone. "It's technically still an open case, and I assigned –"

_"Because the piece in question came from one of my Guatemalan excavations. Many of the items, including that disk, were the property of my archeological team."_

The police captain frowned. Certainly, the man had a point. Neither the stolen property nor the thieves had ever been caught in that case, though she'd assigned Detectives Maza and Bluestone after the former expressed some interest in it. But that had been over a year, and not a single lead had been discovered. Another one of New York's rash of unexplained crimes… the number had been mounting in the last few years.

"And what exactly are you asking of the NYPD, Mr. Bakura ?"

_"An officer of rank to keep an eye on the location would greatly put my apprehensions to rest, Captain."_

Maria mentally ran over her roster of available detectives to see who wasn't currently bogged down with cases this week. "I'll see what I can do for you."

_"Very good,"_ Mr. Bakura said, and she could almost hear him smiling over the phone. _"I'm afraid I've been delayed by an extra day or so, but my son should have arrived sometime last night, and he'll be overseeing part of the exhibition's setup. I do appreciate your assistance in this."_

"Is there anything else, Mr. Bakura ?"

_"No, but thank you, Captain. Good day."_

The crackle of static clicked off, followed by the dial tone. Maria hung up the phone and stood. Leaning out her doorway, she hailed Officer Morgan. "Morgan ! Is Maza here ?"

Morgan scratched the back his head, then frowned, "You just missed her, Captain. I'll see if I can catch her before she gets out of the station, though."

He hurried down the stone steps of the stationhouse to where Elisa was just getting into her car. He had to admire the tenacity of the Fairlane, which had been through more than most squad cars and still managed to look polished despite its age. "Maza ! Captain wants to see you."

The raven-haired detective groaned. "I just finished my shift, I did my paperwork, what more does she want ?"

Morgan smiled at the playful grumbling. "The sooner you find out, the sooner you can go home and sleep."

Elisa sighed and closed the Fairlane's door with a not-quite slam, and trudged back into the station.

"Morgan said you wanted to see me, Captain ?" Elisa said, leaning into the open doorway.

"Yes, please, Detective. Come in and sit down. Hopefully this won't take too long."

_Anything that involves sitting down after my shift is done promises to take too long_, Elisa thought, but sat as requested. "Hopefully what won't take too long ?"

"I want you to take on a little community service before your next shift," Chavez answered dryly, "All you have to do is stand around and look good." Off Elisa's incredulous look, the captain almost laughed. "No, not Sally again. We've had a request for a plainclothes officer at the MNH. A few hours, just to ease a few minds, and that's all. A couple hours before your shift starts, and it's time and a half pay."

Elisa groaned mentally, but time and half pay was hard to turn down, especially on her salary, and with her… expenses. "For how long ?"

"Probably just a few days," Chavez said reassuringly.

* * *

_11:53 AM  
Regency Hotel  
Manhattan, New York_

The bedside clock read 11:53 when Ryou opened his eyes. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and when he did, he sat up, feeling groggy. _Hotel. New York. Father's exhibit. _

He got off the bed and headed for the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

Twenty minutes later, showered and much more awake, Ryou exited the bathroom, still toweling his hair dry. His mind more amenable to processing ordered thought, he lifted the phone and dialed the hotel desk.

"May I have the number of the Museum of Natural History, please ?"

Jazz music filled the line as he was put on hold, and the teen cradled the cordless phone between his shoulder and cheek as he fished around in his suitcase for a clean pair of socks. After several moments, the operator picked up again and provided the number. Ryou thanked her and hung up.

"I fail to see why this city is named after food."

Ryou half-turned in surprise; Bakura was looking out the parted curtains. Through them, Ryou could see the prestigious Park Avenue, overlooking the Upper East Side. "It's just a nickname," he answered, reaching for the phone again. "Lots of cities have pointless ones." He dialed the number he'd scribbled down and waited.

_"Museum of Natural History, how may I direct your call ?"_

"Curator's department, please."

_"One moment, please hold."_

Tinny-sounding opera filled the line, and he grimaced. He glanced over at Bakura, who hadn't moved from his position by the window, arms still folded across his chest. "It doesn't rain as often here as in England," Ryou offered.

"Hn."

The phone beeped in his ear, the opera music disappeared, and then a man's voice came on the line. "Sir, you have an international call. May I put it through ?"

_International ? Maybe Father's calling from the plane ?_ Ryou thought hopefully, and aloud replied, "Yes, put it through."

_"Ryou ?"_

The teen sighed inwardly as his father's assistant Hamarin's voice came on the line, distorted by the poor connection and by distance. "I'm here. Is Father there ?"

_"No, he's gone back to the site, there's been some trouble with the exporting license and since --"_ static swallowed the voice, but returned it a minute later, surprisingly clearer. _"–sked you to go ahead to the museum and he'll see you in a couple of days."_

_It's the same story, told over and over and over again,_ he thought. "That's fine. Tell him I'll see him in a couple of days."

_"Good boy ! Talk to you again soon."_ And then the line switched back to opera – apparently, he was still on hold for the museum.

//You shouldn't get your hopes up like that, hikari. You're disappointed more often when you do.//

The hold clicked off, and a harried sounding woman answered the phone before Ryou could respond. _"Curator's office, Rosemary Ross speaking."_

The teen sighed and turned his attentions to the phone call.

* * *

_3:21 PM  
Manhattan, New York_

_I hope Owen is taking notes_, David Xanatos thought as his attention began to wander again. He had given up trying to focus on the various speakers at the pulpit. The current spokesperson was a jittery young man who was constantly repeating himself and apologizing for it every time. Xanatos caught his assistant's eye and shook his head slightly. Owen had already delivered Xanatos Enterprises' presentation flawlessly -- _not that I've known Owen to be capable of doing it any other way_, he chuckled to himself.

The intended audience sat at the back of the room, out of the light cast by the wall-sized LCD panels on which blueprints and charts were displayed. When the overhead lights had come on between presentations, Xanatos was able to see that they clearly weren't used to a board room. Their suits were stiff; he was willing to bet that this morning had been their first time off the hanger, and when they had left the boardroom and filed out to their own private luncheon, they had fallen into an almost perfect single file.

"Military men," he'd said to Owen, as they waited for lunch to be brought out by servers.

"Unsurprising," Owen had responded, "since I highly doubt that the government wishes to get these negotiations interrupted by…" he paused, and then decided, "unnecessary paperwork."

"Unnecessary legalities, as well," Xanatos answered.

"You'd do well to direct any pertinent information to the man in the navy Koss suit, sir."

"Oh ?"

"His name is Walter Harding."

"The Under Secretary of Defense Intelligence's aide ?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now that _is_ interesting. Makes me wonder who else knows who they're talking to in there."

"I would venture to say none of them, Mr. Xanatos."

"Very good, Owen."

The food had arrived, a dish Xanatos had already forgotten the name of (he could have asked Owen, but frankly, he didn't care; the $300 per plate was the part he remembered) and he said discretely to his assistant, "I wish this meeting had taken place next week. I would have loved to spring the information of a venture with KaibaCorp."

"Respectfully, sir, it is at this point still a _possible_ venture with KaibaCorp. With no current intelligence on the status of their weapons contracts for almost five years, it may not be wise to invest in their assets. You don't want to tip your hand early," Owen added with a small touch of dry humour.

"You're right as usual," Xanatos agreed offhandedly. "Still, I'm eager to meet with the CEO. Call the hotel when we get back and confirm tomorrow's meeting."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

_4:04PM  
American Museum of Natural History  
Central Park West and 79th Street  
Manhattan, New York_

Ryou had decided to walk to the museum rather than take another taxi, but regretted it soon after as he found himself swept along in the press of the noon hour crowd. Once he'd managed to extricate himself from the swarm, he'd hastily decided that expensive or not, taxis were a better way to go. Crowds made him nervous and uncomfortable.

The curator didn't sound as stressed in person as she had over the phone, though she gave Ryou a once-over look as she shook his hand that made him feel defensive. _She probably wasn't expecting someone my age,_ he told himself, _since she'd been in contact with Father about this._

"Well, I'm glad _someone's_ here to take care of this," she sighed. "I'd do it myself but I need to babysit the scaffolding crew on the fourth floor. You'll be setting up on the second floor, east wing. Understand ?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ryou replied, slightly taken aback.

She pursed her lips, then stood. "I've already got a crew upstairs waiting… you were expected several hours ago. Also, the NYPD has called to inform me that they'll be sending over a plainclothes officer to oversee setup. Apparently your father called ahead and insisted on additional security." Her expression revealed how displeased with that she was, and she continued, "So try to keep things running smoothly."

Ryou nodded, feeling Bakura's ire rising at the condescending tone in the curator's voice. Quickly he stood up as well. "I'll go and get started right away," he said, excused himself, and hurried down the halls.

//How dare she speak to you as though you were a child !// Bakura snarled. //And how dare you _let_ her !//

/Yami, she's in charge here,/ Ryou protested, although he felt stung by the woman's attitude as well.

//You've let people push you around your whole life,// Bakura retorted, but then was quiet again.

As promised, a half dozen people were lazing around the still empty exhibit, dressed in blue workman's overalls and caps. They stood up when he entered and one of them came forward. "Jeff Dailey, I'm the foreman here. You're in charge ?"

Ryou straightened. "Yes, I am. Have all the pieces arrived ?"

"Yeah," Dailey answered, "Some really big ones, too."

"Those are the totems," the teen answered, "and they need to be brought in first."

"You heard him, guys," Dailey said loudly, and the others got to their feet. "Let's get to work !"

* * *

_5:28PM  
Kame Game Shop  
Domino City, Japan_

/Yami,/ Yugi thought impishly, /How long are you going to pout over this ? I already said I was sorry for making the camel remark./

//It was extremely dishonorable.//

/Ok./

//And a "cheap shot", aibou.//

/I agree./

//You know how much I hate camels.//

/Yes, Yami./

//And I thought you agreed you wouldn't bring up the loathsome beasts.//

/It just slipped out. Are you going to help me pack ? I might leave all the leather behind if you don't come out here./

//… I was not pouting.// Yami faded into view on the bed, and though he maintained a childish pout, his crimson eyes were warm with amusement. "And you were wearing leather long before we came together, aibou."

"Yes," Yugi conceded, folding a pair of jeans and putting them in the suitcase, "But everyone agrees that you are the reason for so many new buckles and chains."

"But they look good," Yami protested. "And I know you think so too."

Yugi just chuckled and gave his Dark a wide grin. "Can you see if our dark blue jacket in the closet ?"

"I believe you left it downstairs, after you came back from the arcade with Joey."

"Oh, right," Yugi said. "I'll get it after, then." He turned around just in time to be hit with a pillow in the head. "Hey !"

Yami laughed. As often happened, feathers did not long stay in pillows, and already one decorated Yugi's tri-coloured hair. Yugi grabbed the other pillow and swung at Yami, who ducked but got clobbered when his Light reversed the swing into a downward strike. The battle was soon in full, ahem, swing.

"Boys !" Grandpa shouted from down the hall, "Pack first, pillow fight later !"

Both paused, though Yami's weapon of choice – now a stuffed Kuriboh cushion, remained raised. _Just one more clout…_

"That means both of you !" Solomon added loudly.

"Yes, Ji-chan !" Yugi laughed, seeing the look of consternation cross Yami's face at having been caught without even being seen. "He knows us too well."

"Too true," Yami said ruefully.

* * *

_5:53PM  
American Museum of Natural History  
Central Park West and 79th Street  
Manhattan, New York_

Elisa walked up behind the white-haired figure, who seemed to be preoccupied in a conversation with thin air. She slowed her steps as the conversation came into earshot. "... may _**not**_ steal anything from the exhibit."

The detective frowned in confusion; from the figure, there was a pause, and then, "Because it's Father's property !" A longer pause, and then an exasperated sigh, "No, the other exhibits aren't ours, but you still can't -- "

"Excuse me," Elisa said, causing the person to whirl around in surprise. Guilt flashed lightning quick across his pale features before disappearing. He was quite a bit younger than she'd expected, appearing only to be in his late teens, but she covered her surprise and extended her hand, "I'm Detective Maza, 23rd Precinct. Is everything all right here ?"

"Yes," he answered hastily, shaking her hand politely. Instinctively she crossed his British accent with the few others she'd heard, and decided it was a fairly soft one. "My name is Ryou Bakura. I'm…" he blushed a little, looking around the expansive room, "…in charge here."

_He looks like he'd rather be somewhere else_, Elisa thought, _and I want to know what he was talking about when he said stealing. For that matter, I want to know who he was talking to. That didn't sound like a conversation with himself._

"Setup is going well ?" She prompted, seeing several men in blue coveralls straining to maneuver a large stone column through the doorway. Ryou lifted a hand to get their attention and pointed to one of the raised sections of floor, before turning his attention back to Elisa.

"Everything's going fine," he answered simply.

There was an awkward pause, and then Elisa said, "If there's anything I could be doing…"

"No, not really. I'm sorry about this," Ryou shook his head, "This must be a terrible inconvenience for you, this isn't your job."

Elisa shrugged. "This falls under the 'serve' part of "Protect and Serve". We go where people feel we're needed. How about I walk around and check in with the guards ?" She already knew them from her undercover work here a few years ago, during the fiasco with Demona and Titania's Mirror. Last she'd checked, Denby was still wearing a neck brace after Demona had thrown him into a wall.

"That sounds like a good idea," Ryou agreed, and watched her walk out, before turning his attention back to the work crew. There was a shift within his mind, and trying to hold back a chuckle at the radiating displeasure, asked, /Now what ?/

He felt Bakura frown, //… I don't like her.//

This time, the hikari did not suppress his wry laugh. /You don't like the _police detective_. I hardly saw that one coming./

* * *

_7:04 PM  
The Ritz-Carlton New York (on Central Park)  
Manhattan, New York_

"Mokuba," Seto said, a light note of warning in his voice as he watched his brother jump up and down enthusiastically on the king-sized bed, the Frette linens doing little to disguise the protesting mattress beneath.

The black haired boy stopped immediately, looking down at the duvet cover. "Sorry, Seto," he said, chagrined.

_I didn't mean it harshly_, the older Kaiba thought, kicking himself at his brother's ashamed look. Aloud, he added casually, "Change into your pajamas, _otouto_, so when you tire yourself out playing around, you can go straight to sleep."

Mokuba threw his arms around Seto's waist. "You're the best, 'nii-sama," he said, and scampered over to his suitcase.

The telephone on the desk rang, and Seto pressed the speaker button. "What ?"

"Excuse me, sir, but you have a call. Would you like to take it now ?"

"From whom ?" Seto questioned.

"Xanatos Enterprises."

"Put it through," Seto said crisply. There was a short pause.

_"Good evening, Mr. Kaiba. This is Owen Burnett, Mr. Xanatos' personal assistant. I'm calling to confirm your meeting tomorrow with Mr. Xanatos, 9 AM at the Aerie Building ?"_

"That's correct," Seto answered.

_"Excellent. I shall have a car sent to the hotel for quarter past eight. Will there be anything else you require ?"_

"No, that will be fine, Mr. Burnett."

_"Good evening, Mr. Kaiba."_

Seto hung up the phone, feeling distinctly unsettled, though he couldn't understand why.

"That was Xanatos' second in command, right 'nii-sama ? I remember him from the news conference on TV. He gives me the creeps." Amused, Seto raised an eyebrow, inviting his brother to continue, but Mokuba shrugged. "I can't explain it, Seto. But I watched the press conference, and he's just... weird."

"He's also efficient, from what I understand, and that's valuable. What were you doing watching a press conference, anyway ? You always told me you found them boring."

"It was a few weeks ago. I was watching the TV while I was eating breakfast and you came downstairs and changed the channel."

_Damn_, Seto thought, frowning inwardly, _I'm usually more attentive than that._ And now that Mokuba mentioned it, he did remember the broadcast.

"It's no big deal, 'nii-sama," Mokuba continued earnestly. He paused for a moment, and then asked, "Do you want me to stay in the hotel tomorrow ?"

Seto blinked. "You've been looking forward to seeing this building since I told you I was going to New York," he said.

"I know, but I don't want to get in your way, or bother --" he broke off when he saw his brother's expression.

"You are **_never_** 'in the way'. You are _**never**_ a 'bother'. Never think otherwise, Mokuba."

"Ok," the youth answered, "sorry. You don't think Xanatos will mind ?"

"Xanatos is buying a KaibaCorp contract, not the other way around. He can afford me some of my eccentricities," Seto said dryly.

* * *

_7:06 PM  
Aerie Building  
Manhattan, New York_

Owen hung up the phone, disconnecting the speaker. On the other side of the desk, David Xanatos steepled his hands together and half-turned to regard the view out the ceiling to floor window. "Well, that's set then," he said, pleased. "Have the kitchen staff make up a brunch for... oh, 12:30 should be fine. And have them set four places, unless Fox has something planned that you know about and I don't ?"

Owen shook his head. "You're expecting him to bring the younger brother," the aide stated, unsurprised.

"Of course. You don't haul someone halfway around the world to have them sit in a hotel room. Besides, Kaiba is a known name here, he's probably worried about a kidnap risk. I think he'd enjoy a tour of the castle while his brother's busy, don't you ? Middle of the day, I don't see any harm in it."

"Of course, sir. I take it there's no need to organize the board of directors for tomorrow's meeting ?"

Xanatos waved a hand dismissively. "And trust them with something this delicate ? Certainly not."

The sun slipped below the horizon and he canted a head to one side. Sometimes, Goliath's wakening roar managed to penetrate the supposedly soundproof plate glass -- and sure enough, he distinguished it from the hum of the building's generators. "Right on time," he noted.

"Daddy ! Hi Owen !" Alex peeked into the office, then beamed and ran over to give his father a hug. "Mommy wants to know if you're going to have supper now or later."

"Well then," Xanatos said, picking up his son – whose speech had always been better than a four-year-old's should be – and settling him onto one shoulder. "Let's go and tell Mommy that we're hungry now. Sound good ?"

"Ok," the boy chirped, "and you know what ? We're having s'ghetti !"

"We are ?" Xanatos repeated, in feigned amazement, voice fading down the hall.

* * *

Thanks to: Matt-chan, who dedicated 6 hours of his time to translating my ramblings into a coherent timeline, and is probably the sole reason this chapter got posted sooner than 6 months from now.

Reviewers:

Aura Black Chan - Oh, Gargoyles isn't a dead fandom by a long ways, it's just slowed way down, that's all.

Mercedes no Inuarai - Gargoyles was your first fandom too ? Small world of genres. Vathara and C. Morgan are both huge inspirations to me, and I hope I can do their influence justice !

RogueMoon - Camels make for great, great dialogue.

Amarin Rose - As far as I know, this is the only YGO/Gargoyles crossover there is. Scary, huh ? The fic may be AU but I try and keep the characters as close to their personalities as possible.

06-12-04 


	3. Chapter 2: Science and Sorcery

**Chapter 2: Science and Sorcery**

****

* * *

_8:15 AM  
Manhattan, New York_

As promised, the car arrived precisely at 8:15 in the morning, and was pulling up in front of the Ritz-Carlton when both Kaibas stepped out of the elevator. Seto was wearing what Mokuba had taken to calling the "Battle City" coat, the full length white trench.

The car was a spacious limousine, black with cream interior. The driver had come around the back of the car and opened the door, though he looked a little uncertain when Mokuba clambered in first. In fact, he looked about ready to open his mouth and object when Seto gave him a frosty glare, before climbing in himself.

"This is a nice car," Mokuba whispered, running a finger over the silk-embroidered XE on the seats. As the driver pulled away from the curb, he asked, "Do you think Xanatos is trying to impress us ?"

Seto shrugged. "It's probably a car he uses himself... its armored, and these windows are bulletproof, probably Lexan."

When the limo pulled up to the curb in the shadow of the Aerie Building, Seto opened the door before the driver had a chance to get out of the car, and Mokuba clambered out after him. Looking up, he could just make out a few rows of dark grey stone before the rest was swallowed by the cloud cover. "This guy really put a castle on his building," Mokuba said with an amazed shake of his head. "That's… eccentric."

"Does it make my Blue Eyes jet look tame by comparison ?" Seto asked, a small smile appearing briefly.

"Well, no." Mokuba admitted, earning a mock-glare. "But they're both really cool."

They were met in the lobby by Owen Burnett; he seemed even more startlingly pale in person than on television. He gave a polite bow, surprising both of them, and greeted, "Mister Kaiba, Master Kaiba. I'm Owen Burnett. If you'll follow me, the elevators are this way." He gestured with his left hand, turned, and the brothers saw that his right hand appeared to be made of… stone ?

Mokuba opened his mouth, but Seto shook his head slightly. The ride up the elevator was made without speaking, and Owen was either oblivious or ignoring the stares that Mokuba gave his hand until Seto nudged him reproachfully.

The elevators opened to a wide lobby, with wooden doors directly across from them. Owen stepped out first, crossed the navy carpet, and opened the doors for the Kaibas. Inside was a conference room, the walls spaced with windows and decorated with pictures of the castle perched above in various stages of construction. "If you'll make yourselves comfortable, I'll inform Mr. Xanatos that you've arrived," Owen said, inclining his head. "Can I bring you anything ?"

"No," Seto answered, and Mokuba also shook his head.

"_Sugoi_," Mokuba said, standing on tiptoes to peer at one of the pictures after Owen had left and pulled the doors shut behind him. "Look, 'nii-sama… there's levels between the castle and the office part."

"Probably living levels," Seto speculated, examining the diagram.

The doors opened again, revealing a tanned man with dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail. He smiled cordially at them both, extending a hand as he walked towards them. "Ah, Seto Kaiba. A pleasure to finally meet you in person. Welcome to Manhattan. I'm David Xanatos."

"Mr. Xanatos," Seto replied, marginally surprised to discover that they were the same height -- he was so used to being taller than everyone he associated with that he almost unconsciously used his stature as a means of intimidation. Xanatos shook his hand and then smiled and offered the same to Mokuba.

"And Mokuba Kaiba," he said. He sounded genuinely pleased to the younger brother, and unlike many who addressed him, didn't modulate his tone into one of false friendliness because of Mokuba's age. (Those who did shortly thereafter faced Seto's _dis_pleasure, and often lost salary, advancement opportunities, or contracts.)

"Nice to meet you," Mokuba answered.

"I see you were admiring my display. I thought it'd be interesting to document the construction, since it moved along so quickly." Xanatos smiled again, gesturing to the plush chairs around the oblong table. "Please, have a seat."

* * *

_10:34 AM  
Narita International Airport  
Tokyo, Japan_

Yugi struggled to pull his suitcase through the turnstile with a small grunt, earning a _tsk_ from his grandpa. "It's easier just to lift it over, Yugi."

"Not when it's as big as I am, Ji-chan," Yugi protested. Suddenly he felt ghostly hands lifting the weight and helping the baggage through the mechanical portal. He beamed up at the figure only he and his grandfather could see. "Thanks, Yami."

"Of course, aibou," the spirit answered, knowing full well that none of the people passing within only inches of them would ever detect him. "Are all these people going where we are ?"

"Airports service the whole world, Yami," Solomon said amusedly. "But New York is a popular destination. The plane will probably be full."

"But we'll try to find a row with an empty seat, so you can sit if you want," Yugi added cheerfully.

Yami hid a grimace -- spirit or not, he remembered the last time he'd been on a plane and the nauseous feeling it had produced -- but gave his hikari an attempted smile of agreement. "How long will this journey take, again ?"

"Close to a day -- we have to change planes part of the way." Solomon explained. "The only plane that flies direct leaves in the wee hours of the morning, and from a different airport." He bounced energetically on the balls of his feet with more vigor than Yugi had seen in years. "Just wait, boys ! We'll make sure the IBCGA invites us back for every convention for years to come !"

/I think we're going to be showcased, Yami,/ Yugi groaned.

//Whatever gave you that idea, aibou ?// Yami replied dryly. //Surely you don't think that Grandfather would take advantage of our reputation for a little prestige ?//

/What ?/ Yugi gasped in mock outrage, playing along. /Not our Ji-chan !/

"I know you're talking to each other about me," Solomon chuckled, "you both get this dazed expression on your faces. Now come on, the gate we want is on the other side of the airport."

* * *

_10:55 AM  
Aerie Building  
Manhattan, New York_

_It's hard to believe he's only 19… makes me feel old_, Xanatos thought, looking across the table at Seto. He'd mentioned the fact earlier to Owen, and his aide had given him such a deadpan look that he'd immediately realized the irony of his remark. He glanced up from the file that held the majority of KaibaCorp's contract information, then purposefully set the paper down in front of him.

"We've been passing specs that we could have traded over the phone for," he glanced at the clock, "an hour and a half already. Do you think that's enough to satisfy the investors ?"

"I would hope so," Seto responded, tucking his own dossier of files into his briefcase.

"Excellent," Xanatos said, standing and going to the beverage tray along the wall. He poured himself a cup of coffee. "You know how investors are. The only reason we have a board of directors… they're good at pacifying the shareholders. Are you sure you two don't want anything to drink ?"

Seto let himself relax slightly. "Coffee would be fine. Mokuba ?"

"No, thank you," his brother answered with a polite shake of his head.

_That's a mature kid_, Xanatos thought. Not once had he seen Mokuba fidget, or look inattentive to the conversation. _Either he's a great actor, or he's genuinely interested in this. Still, this can't be easy for him to sit though._

Making his tone as unassuming as possible, he asked casually, "If you'd like to see the castle first hand… ?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Seto give him a frosty look, and re-evaluated the level of protectiveness between the two. He hastened to assure the elder, "The castle is unoccupied, and Owen would be happy to accompany him."

Xanatos watched in fascination as Mokuba's hand came up to brush the card-shaped necklace he wore, and after a moment, Seto relaxed again. _Some sort of code between them_, he wondered.

"If you want to," Seto said finally.

When Mokuba nodded, Xanatos raised his voice slightly to carry through the door. "Owen ?"

"Yes, Mr. Xanatos ?" The aide said smoothly, stepping inside the room.

"Please escort young Mr. Kaiba up to the castle level."

"Yes, sir." Owen held the door open wider, allowing Mokuba to slip out of the conference room, though not before he had given his brother a shy smile.

Seto took a sip of his coffee, though his eyes never left the door as it swung closed. His gaze switched back to Xanatos as the billionaire sat down, and he waited expectantly.

"I'm curious," Xanatos said, "as to why KaibaCorp spent years becoming foremost in heavy weaponry contracts for the military, only to abandon them and change focus to holographic and computer technology." He steepled his fingers together. "Not only that, but what military contracts haven't yet expired, have been tangled up in a very complicated web of legal tape." He paused, and smiled. "You were very thorough."

"Thank you," Seto said.

"But why go to such an extent ?"

"My vision of KaibaCorp and that of my adoptive father's are very different. When the company became mine, so did the choice of what was in the best interests of the corporation."

"Yes, I heard about Gozaburo Kaiba's death. A terrible accident. Still, why such a deliberate delay on the research ?"

"By the time the lawyers can clear it up, the designs will be obsolete. It will never be reach market. Already, most of the units in service have been decommissioned and replaced."

Xanatos watched with great interest the ferocity with which Seto spoke, and the underlying anger in his posture. Clearly, there was no lost love between him and his predecessor. As quickly as the anger appeared, however, it vanished, and Seto regarded him coolly.

"So why the sudden interest in such outdated material ? We both know that you can already produce more sophisticated and superior results to what you're trying to buy from me."

Xanatos smiled. It was a smile that his competitors had come to dread.

* * *

_12:03 PM  
Narita International Airport  
Tokyo, Japan_

The captain's voice droned over the speakers, informing them of the distance and estimated time of arrival, but Yami barely noticed. As Yugi had promised, they'd managed to find a trio of unoccupied seats, and somehow his persuasive aibou had convinced him to come out of the Puzzle during takeoff. He gripped the armrests tightly, looking around desperately for something to focus his attention on that wasn't bouncing around as the plane taxied down the runway.

With a shudder, the plane lifted into the air, and the vibrations slowed and then stopped altogether, replaced by the dull sound of the engines.

/You ok, Yami ?/ Yugi questioned, seeing his Dark's expression.

Yami loosened his grip on the fabric armrest, hoping the indents would come out eventually. //How often will it do that ?//

/Umm… probably when we land. And maybe if we hit some turbulence. And we… have to change planes, so we'll have to take off at least once more./

//Oh Ra.//

At the stricken look on his 'grandson's' face, Grandpa chuckled. "You imagine it worse than it really is, Yami. Try not to think about it so much. Besides… you're already dead. Even if we crash, you can't die again."

Yami and Yugi shot him identical glares.

* * *

_11:02 AM  
Castle Wyvern, Aerie Building  
Manhattan, New York_

The ride up to the castle took even longer than the ride from the lobby to the conference room. Mokuba tried not to stare, but his gaze kept sliding back to the stone fist that hung at Owen's side. Finally, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he asked, "What happened to your hand ?"

"An unfortunate incident, involving a fickle liquid and an uncharacteristic lack of foresight," Owen replied calmly.

Mokuba turned red and looked down at the patterned floor. "_Gomen nasai_," he said.

"_Daijobu desu_," Owen responded, startling the young teen.

The elevator slowed, stopped, and dinged cheerfully. The doors slid open to reveal an expansive room made almost entirely of stone. "The Great Hall," Owen announced. "Originally, this would have been used by the prince and princess to greet visitors to the castle, or to hold banquets in when the extra space was needed."

"Where was the castle moved from ?" Mokuba asked.

"Scotland. Historical references place it at about fourteen hundred years old."

"_Sugoi_," Mokuba said, standing in front of a tapestry. Other than a small section in the bottom corner, it seemed untouched by time. A thought struck him, and he looked over his shoulder at Owen. "Where'd you learn Japanese ?"

"I found it advantageous to be fluent in a number of languages. You seem to be well-versed in English."

"Yeah, well… our adoptive father thought it'd be a good thing for Seto and I to learn."

Owen noticed that the young teen's attitude became uncomfortable when he mentioned the subject, so he let it drop. Instead, he gestured towards the archway. "The stairs are this way," he said, and Mokuba was quick to accept the distraction. His attention, however, was drawn to a section of wall beside the doorway. He ran his fingers over the stone brick, but jumped back when it puffed faintly and drew back, revealing a metal safe inside.

Owen's eyebrows rose to his hairline. Xanatos had installed safe caches of energy weapons around the castle shortly after Oberon had tried to take Alexander during the Gathering. But he'd insisted that they be hidden, artfully camouflaged and supposedly undetectable to casual observation. Yet Mokuba, unfamiliar with the castle, had managed to spot one within minutes.

"A security feature," he explained evenly. "Mr. Xanatos has had some… undesirable incidents take place here in the past."

Mokuba looked up at him with more shrewdness than a twelve year old should possess.

* * *

_2:41 PM  
Illuminati Headquarters  
Cairo, Egypt_

Demona tightened her grip on the thick bronze chain of the amulet she held. It was deeply etched with Nordic runes, so that the user could trace fingers over the grooves and read the spell written there, but Demona, in her guise as Dominique Destine, knew the spell by heart.

"Fela minn líkami brott allr auga. Skjoldr minn rodd allr heill. Varda sækja fródleikr. Leyna, leyna, leyna !"

_Thankfully, a pure accent isn't required to activate the Aureole of Hod_, she thought, looking down at herself. Her body was fading from view, exactly as the amulet's spell promised. _Hide my body away from all eyes. Shield my voice from all listeners. Guard against seeking magics. Conceal, conceal, conceal !_

Once she was completely invisible, she slipped the chain around her neck. The Nordic talisman felt chilled, even under the Egyptian sun. She ignored it and pulled an electronic identity card from her pocket. It had been a simple spell to take over the mind of a security guard, and leave him immobilized in a dusty alleyway. She had been tempted to just kill him, but had decided that since his memory would be wiped, he wouldn't remember being terrified of her, and that took most of the fun out of it.

She entered the cool recesses of the steel underground that housed (unbeknownst to the locals and tourists above) the Illuminati Headquarters for most of Africa. Her fingers itched as she slid silently past one guard after another.

It was a challenge, obtaining the code to the central vault. It had involved a number of spells, threats, and one late-night visit to a particularly superstitious director.

Her hand came up again to brush the Aureole, but the spell was holding firmly. She crept up behind the sentry at the desk, and with a quick blow, sent him slumping into unconsciousness. _This is almost too easy_, she thought, a sadistic smile crossing her face. _They've obviously become complacent in their safety measures… if they only knew._

The vault opened before her, and Demona stepped over the threshold and into the carefully climate-controlled interior. Non-fluorescent lighting, safer for documents and artifacts, provided the room with a faintly yellow tinge, but it was bright enough to allow her to see exactly what she came for.

It was roughly the same size as the Grimorum Arcanorum, though in better condition despite its advanced age. Her hands tingled when she touched it. She read the small, white card placed precisely in the display clip.

_**Unknown magical tome of Egyptian origin. Examination of hieroglyphics on the book's spine suggest Old Kingdom, possibly previous era. Spellbound gold binding lock. Contents unknown.**_

Demona laughed.

* * *

_12:22 PM  
Aerie Building  
Manhattan, New York_

"… and as far as rFz frequency coding is concerned, your prototype," Xanatos checked his notes, "LD-360, is too fragile to support anything above a 7.21 amplitude."

"Gozaburo wasn't interested in production of a harmonizer that small," Seto countered. "It was intended for fighter jets, but with three axes, it was found to have too small an area of effect."

"But jets aren't nearly as maneuverable as, say, a humanoid robot. With the airborne agility of a machine like that, the radius deficiency could be cut down exponentially." Xanatos said enigmatically, then stood and smiled charmingly. "But I'm getting ahead of myself, it's past noon. Could I entice you and your brother to join my wife and I for lunch ?"

Seto thought for a moment, then nodded. "All right," he said. He wanted to check up on Mokuba anyway, even though he would have known if something was wrong. Without thinking, his hand come up to touch the edge of his locket as he stood as well, a gesture that might have been easily overlooked if Xanatos hadn't watched him do it already. Again, the billionaire was intrigued by the movement.

"Excellent," Xanatos said. "We'll head up to the castle and find Owen and your brother first."

--

Several stories above them, Mokuba was leaning over the turret's edge, looking down at the city in a position that Owen found unnerving, despite the many times he had watched Alexander do the same (though with he or Lexington never far away). Still, he did not want to admonish the younger Kaiba in the manner of a guardian, sensing that the boy would only listen to his older brother.

He was saved from having to bring up a warning, however, as Mokuba suddenly stepped away from the edge, a fleeting look of delight crossing his features. He looked down at the card-shaped necklace around his neck, and then up at Owen.

"I think 'nii-sama is on his way," he said simply.

"Perhaps we should meet him," Owen suggested.

"Ok," Mokuba agreed, heading for the steps that led down into the castle proper.

"That's an interesting ornament," Owen commented, leading the way through the confusing corridors towards the business levels. "It looks like a playing card."

"It's a locket," Mokuba said, pressing the side and popping open the red and black face. Inside was a picture of Seto, clearly taken several years ago. "Seto's has my picture in it."

Owen allowed an imperceptible smile at that.

Seto and Xanatos met them in the Great Hall. "We were just coming to find you," Xanatos said in mild surprise, but recovered quickly. "Lunch should be ready shortly, Owen ?"

"Yes sir," the aide replied. "I'll see to its setup in the dining hall." With a nod to Mokuba and Seto, he excused himself and vanished down the elevator.

Xanatos smiled at Mokuba, his tone turning joking. "How was the dime tour ?"

"I liked it."

"Well, shall we go see what the kitchen's prepared ?"

* * *

_4:03 PM  
O'Hare International Airport  
Chicago, USA_

"Welcome to Chicago, boys," Solomon said, trying not to get stepped on by the crush of people making their way through the terminal. "Watch your step, Yugi. Don't get separated from me, now."

Yami looked distinctly unhappy as several people passed _through_ him, and resorted to pressing back against the wall in order to escape the unpleasant feeling. Yugi couldn't help but giggle. "Didn't that happen in a movie ?" he asked.

//It feels like… like… being inside one of those bouncing food cubes.//

/What ??/

Yami sounded out the English letters for his Light, who burst into laughter. /Jello ?! When people walk through you, it feels like jello ?/

//Aibou, it isn't funny…// Yami tried to scold, but Yugi's laughter was infectious and he chuckled after a moment.

"We're halfway there," Grandpa assured them. "We have a few hours to wait before we can board our plane. Help me find the lounge, we can have somewhere comfortable to sit down."

//What about your bags, aibou ?// Yami inquired.

/Oh, the airport has people who will transfer our luggage from that plane to the other one, when it arrives. Oh ! We have to stop at the gift shop. Téa asked me to get her a souvenir. She's never been to Chicago./ Yugi blushed slightly, at which Yami chuckled again, and they hurried to catch up with Solomon.

* * *

_4:36 PM  
Illuminati Headquarters  
Cairo, Egypt_

The theft did not remain undetected for long, although it took them nearly an hour to check all the vaults and libraries, before they could confirm that only a single thing had been taken. Saman Morathi, the Regional Coordinator for the African continent, had his staff scurrying with completed reports.

"Just a spell book, with all our other artifacts not three feet away," he mused, leaning back in his leather chair. "And we don't even know what it contained ?"

"No sir," his assistant, Jirari, answered. "It was a recent acquisition. We hadn't had time yet to find the proper means to open the locks."

"Where did we get it ?"

Jirari checked his notes nervously. "Ah… it was sent to us from one of our field agents, sir. He claimed that he'd found it unguarded in a cache of artifacts to be sold to the black market."

Morathi snorted. "Which means it was stolen, and the original owner may come looking for it."

"Could the thief have _been_ the original owner ?" Jirari questioned.

"I don't think so. It was too specific." With a touch of the controls in front of him, he brought up security footage on his computer screen. "Mr. Mendel said that no visual evidence of our thief showed up on these tapes, correct ?"

"That's right, sir."

"Mr. Mendel has an entirely too narrow view of investigation."

Morathi leaned closer to the screen, and spoke, his voice taking on a powerful echo. _"By the opened eye of Baldr, reveal what has been hidden by your brother's blindness."_

The video feed on the screen flickered, as though the spell encountered resistance, but then magic asserted itself and, like a Polaroid image, a figure appeared in a hazy blur on the footage. _Who said science and sorcery don't mix_, he laughed to himself. "There's the thief," Morathi said.

Jirari stared. "How did you know what counter spell to use, sir ?"

Morathi glared at him, and the assistant took the hint. "I'll spread the word, sir. Yes sir. Right away, sir." He ducked back out of the office.

Morathi sighed and reached for the phone. The number was keyed into memory, and there was the double-click of the call being connected internationally. It rang once, twice, and then a man's groggy voice answered, "It's 3 in the morning. Who the hell is this ?"

"Mr. Duval, it's Morathi. We have a problem."

* * *

_6:41 PM  
Matt Bluestone's Apartment  
Manhattan, New York_

An obnoxious ring tone jarred Bluestone awake, and he fumbled blindly for the phone on his nightstand before he realized that the cacophonic noise wasn't from a landline. Swearing under his breath, he threw back the covers and snagged his pants off the back of the chair, pulling his cell phone from their pocket. "Bluestone."

_"Still asleep ? Your shift starts in a few hours, Matthew."_

"Hacker." Bluestone flopped back on the bed. "It's the joy of working all nights. Why are you calling me ?"

_"I thought you might be interested to know a little bit of Illuminatus trivia."_

Bluestone sat up quickly, dumping the sheet on the floor. "What sort of trivia ?"

_"What does it take to rile up the entire board of Regional Coordinators ?"_

"Uhh… an allergy to shellfish ?"

_"Cute, but no.__ There's been a theft at the __Cairo__ Headquarters. You might know the perpetrator: highly skilled magic user, fanatical hatred of humanity, doubles as a CEO in the daylight hours --"_

"Demona ?" Bluestone said, baffled. "What would she want in Cairo ?"

* * *

_7:17 PM  
Nightstone Unlimited Building  
Manhattan, New York_

Demona, still in her guise as Dominique Destine, strode through the lushly carpeted hallways of Nightstone, a cardboard box tucked under one arm as she strode to her office. Most of the staff had already gone home for the night, though some of them remained, including her secretary. Demona went through a lot of secretaries, most of which broke down under the constant stress that Demona subjected them to. But this one had hung around for a few months now, and Demona had to grudgingly admit that for a human, this one wasn't nearly as loathsome as the rest of them.

She just couldn't remember the silly girl's _name_, that was all.

"Ms. Destine, you're back ! Did you have a safe trip ?" the brunette said, getting up quickly from her desk. "Here, can I carry that for you ?"

She held out her hands to relieve the box, but Demona snatched it back from her outstretched hands. "No," she snarled, and then caught herself. "That won't be necessary --" she glanced at the brass-plated name plaque on the desk -- "Sonja. It's not heavy."

"Yes, ma'am. I've got those documents prepared for next Tuesday that you asked for."

"Good. Put them on my desk," Demona said. Her internal clock protested, and she realized how close to sunset it was. "In the morning. You're done for tonight, go home."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, Ms. Destine," Sonja said, and Demona gave the human no further thought as she locked herself in the office. The cardboard box and the linen wrapping were carelessly discarded into the corner.

"They had no idea of the power you possess, did they ?" She asked, stroking the gold-wrought black cover of the tome. "I wonder how they managed to find this…"

The golden symbol on the front, a symmetric Eye of Horus, gleamed invitingly.

* * *

**Additonal Notes:**

**Hod** and **Baldr:** Twin sons of Odin and Frigg. Frigg, who knew of every person's destiny, tried to prevent Baldr's death by gathering the oath of every object in nature that they would not harm him, except mistletoe, whom she thought was too small to to ask of the oath. All the other gods, thinking Baldr invincible, often used him for target practise with knives or archery. Loki, who was jealous of Baldr, gave his blind brother Hod a dart made of mistletoe, and Hod, not knowing what he was throwing, killed Baldr with it.

Translations:

_sugoi_ - "cool!" or "awesome!"  
_gomen__ nasai_ - I'm very sorry  
_daijobu desu_ - It's all right


End file.
